


Mea culpa, Mea maxima culpa

by EggEmperor



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Dan Fenton needs a hug, Dan Phantom needs a kick in the teeth, Forgiving yourself is difficult, Gen, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Murder and Rape are mentioned in passing, Nightmares, Only Murder is given any detail, Panic Attacks, Redemption, Regret, Suicidal Thoughts, Sympathy For the "Devil"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 09:11:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14931393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EggEmperor/pseuds/EggEmperor
Summary: Darkness can pervade and consume a soul. Few understand that there is always redemption even if the redeemed feels he doesn't deserves it. No stain is permanent, it is only as deep as you allow it to be. All taint no matter how black can be removed. But there is a price. The pain of remorse, of guilt is not a burden all can bare.





	Mea culpa, Mea maxima culpa

**Author's Note:**

> Addendum:  
> June 13th, 2018
> 
> This Story was written and published first to Fan Fiction.net four years ago in March of 2014. It is one of only two fics – along with the One Piece Story “Curse of the Dragon”, also posted here on AO3 – that I have completed. It was written as an as is one-shot and while I did muse over ideas for a potential serialized sequel, that never materialized – though I still entertain the idea from time to time. It like all my stories is un-betaed, and while I did some basic editing, additions and clean up before I posted it to AO3, I am fully aware that some mistakes likely remain and that it is at best a median work and is overall, derivative and unpolished. If the sequel idea ever does come to fruition, I might rewrite this story, as it stands though I have no plans to do so now.
> 
> This story is Rated E for Explicit, it contains Graphic Violence, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Rape and Torture.
> 
> Original Author’s Note:  
> March 27th, 2014
> 
> Note: This is not a Clockwork x Dan Fic, I’m not a fan of the paring and kind of find it creepy, no offense to those who do – I fully understand and support you, it’s just not my cup of tea. Clockwork’s feelings here are on the order of somewhere between Concerned Family Doctor and Worried Uncle. More on point maybe the ideal vision of a Catholic Priest – or fatherly/motherly religious figure of your choice – wise, protecting, caring, patient, understanding and platonically loving beyond all reason.
> 
> This Story is rated M for Mature, and contains Mature Content, including. Strong imagery, gore and blood, violence and strong language.
> 
> Note Butch Hartman and Nick owns the Characters here in, I’m just using them for entertainment purposes for the fans of the show. Secondly, there are thousands stories for the DP universe on this site. Chances are that someone thought up the scenario I’m going to present before I did. If that is the case understand that I never intended plagiarism and all similarities are unfortunate coincidence.

 

**Mea culpa, Mea maxima culpa**

**A Danny Phantom Fanfic**

By Egg Emperor

**Chapter 1: _Kyrie Eleison_**

_-A Clarion call that splits the Dark,_

_A sweet melody pierces the Heart,_

_A shining beacon that parts the night,_

_And illuminates the path of Right_

_Cast from rusted nail and razors’ edge,_

_The path of Pain, the path of Dread,_

_Dyed a sticky crimson Red_

_Forged from broken glass and twisted steel,_

_Carving flesh so wounds may heal,_

_On hands and knees it must be traveled,_

_Before the light the dark unraveled,_

_Through river of molten metal or to the just a stream of milk,_

_The taint is purged, the shadow’s ilk,_

_No longer holds its power_

_And now upon the distant shore,_

_Free to breath the light once more. -_

****

**October 31 st 2008, 2:36 AM – The Ghost Zone.**

The Ghost Zone was a nightmarish place, twisted and warped, with islands of land floating over an abyss. Hundreds of Doors hung in midair some simply appearing one moment, then vanishing the next. Some lead somewhere, others lead nowhere. The land and sparse and decaying buildings were all dyed sickly purples and reds as if stained with ancient blood. And encompassing it all was the ghastly neon green glow of the void that all of this floated in, a dimension of madness was a good way to describe it.

Lawlessness pervaded every corner of this grim dimension, and though Walker, the warden Ghost “tried” to impose “law and order” upon the realm, he was at best just a piece of the anarchy that was the norm of this depressing world. In fact he could be best described as a child on the playground playing cop, trying to impose his rules upon the other children and then throwing a tantrum when he wasn’t obeyed. In truth the playground metaphor fit well with the ghost zone as a whole.

People and animals generally didn’t become ghosts upon dying. Their souls left the mortal plain entirely, leaving the universe behind. Where they went none knew. Wherever it was it was a place that no mortal or ghost could go. Some suggested that it was the realm from which God Himself looked down upon all creation. Others thought it was some novel or different plane of existence. Whether it was another world or the Kingdom of the Creator, what mattered is that most living things left for there. It was only those spirits that were for some reason fearful, incomplete, damaged or unwilling; that became ghosts and lived in the limbo that was the Ghost Zone.

Most were like lost children, many not understanding or even unwilling to accept their situation. Which lead to the general chaos of the realm.

Though among the bedlam that was the day to day status quo of the place there were those that were pillars of logic and reason.

One of those resided in an old and high tower that existed at the far corner of the void, inside were all manner of mechanisms; gears and springs, chimes and pendulums. Clocks and time pieces covered the inside walls, and marched to an unseen measure.

 

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**October 31 st 2008, 2:57 AM – The Ghost Zone – Temporal Tower**

This was the home of the Spirit of Time, Clockwork, who was currently floating back and forth in his workshop in a ghostly equivalent of pacing.

This was very unusual behavior for the normally stoic and collected temporal spirit. It couldn’t be helped though, because for the first time in over a millennium – one of a handful of times in his entire existence – Clockwork was worried.

As he “paced” back and forth, switching through his three forms in a caricature of his general powers, he turned to glance at the source and object of his concern. A white topped silver and green canister sitting on his workshop desk.

A Fenton thermos; one of the ghost catching inventions of fanatical ghost hunters Jack and Maddie Fenton. The two were a bit off and more than a tad bumbling when it came to both their contraptions and their research – and even more so with their parenting - still they did good work. And ultimately they were the best ghost experts in the mortal world.

Clockwork smirked. Still those achievements were tempered by the fact that one of the most powerful ghosts in existence had been right under their nose, and they had, had no idea about it, until his sister let it slip – something about nightmares of “Danny Dissections” disrupting her busy college schedule.

Their son Danny Fenton was also the famous - or infamous - Danny Phantom. The 15 year old was a rare half-ghost, possessing both human vitality and emotions as well as the powers of a very strong spirit.

And it was Danny, or rather a “Danny” that Clockwork was worried about. Not the teen half-ghost, no, he was asleep in his bed back in Amity Park at this late hour.

No what Clockwork was worried about was inside that thermos. Dan Phantom, one of the most powerful and malevolent ghosts to ever exist was trapped inside, placed there by his younger self over a year ago.

Dan was born from a tragic series of events: the death of his parents and friends and then the splitting of his self into his two halves. After Vlad Masters had split him, the ghost half reacted violently and then tore the ghost half, Plasmius, from his benefactor. He proceeded to fuse with Plasmius and was overwhelmed with power, transforming into Dan. Who then proceeded to murder his human half, before departing on a decade long reign of terror and destruction.

It was originally these events that Clockwork first focused on in his preliminary investigation of the monstrous power that had begun to destroy the world. His original assumption had to do with the perceived absorption of Vlad Plasmius, it was the dark and polluted mind and energy of Vlad Masters’ ghost half, his thinking went, that had caused the corrupted birth of the entity known as Dan. In the beginning, he wasn’t sure how much of the composite ghost was made of either being; given the power difference between the two ghosts – and the fact that the human Vlad Masters survived the initial incident – his bets were hedged that Plasmius was the dominant part of the Super Ghost, even if it’s overall form was much closer to that of Phantom. When the Observants gave him the Supreme Council’s order to kill Danny, he even briefly considered slaying Vlad Masters as potential solution to the problem, one that was assuredly the lesser of two evils.

But the more he watched the twists and turns of time as Dan carved a bloody path across the world, the more and more he realized that that Vlad and thus Plasmius was only a minor contributing factor to the monster tearing apart the Earth. Dan never referred to himself as Vlad or Plasmius. At first, he simply went by his old moniker of Danny Phantom, later Dan Phantom or just Dan; his driving motives, beyond wanton destruction of everything in existence all seemed to come from things that happened to Danny Fenton and his sense of self appeared to directly evolve from the young teen, with little to no evidence of any influence from Plasmius beyond some notable physical features.

The evidence became even more apparent when Clockwork had been given leave to use his power to the fullest and he played his temporal gamble. Dan had reacted more predictably than The Master of Time could have ever assumed he would. Right from the moment of his headlong charge into the past to secure his future, Clockwork began to suspect that Dan was far too brash and green, the Lord of Time was paying against an amateur, one almost completely unaware that he was playing a game at all. It was this and his illogical insistence that his murder of Danny’s friends and family – especially with Danny armed with the knowledge imparted to him by the Vlad of the future – would in any shape result in the events of his “birth”; that affirmed in Clockwork’s mind, that Dan lacked the cunning, intelligence and experience of Plasmius, all of which would have led him to act far less recklessly and generally illogically in his treatment of the situation.  
  
Yes, in the end it was clear that what happened was not a fusion or merger, perhaps better said, Danny Phantom devoured Plasmius, consumed him for energy and power, leaving behind only a few minor physical similarities. Perhaps yes, the energy that was incorporated into his being may have been tainted with lingering malice, and that may have lead to him being more malicious that he initially would have been, but ultimately Dan’s creation was dependent on Danny Fenton, Vlad or no, as long as Danny Fenton was around, the potential for Dan’s existence remained. And his birth, and the original malignance and reasons, were within Danny as well.

Clockwork sighed. He never really understood the process that caused the ghost half of Danny to suddenly become malevolent. He had a guess, but it was a mangle of psychology and assumptions. Perhaps someday he would drop by Harvard and try to speak to Jasmine on the matter, maybe between the two of them they could figure it out.

As it were his thoughts were thus:

In the original timeline, Danny as a whole blamed himself for what happened to his friends and family. Furthermore, he blamed his ghost powers, which facilitated his ability to cheat. Perhaps it was at that moment that a dissociative split occurred in his mind. The human and the spirit at least partially separated in the context conscious self. Danny Fenton blamed Danny Phantom. Both felt the guilt, but the ghost was twice as guilty, he blamed himself and was blamed by his human half. When the human half decided to dispose of the ghost half something inside the ghost finally snapped.

The human rejected the ghost, he rejected himself. And those consequences were dire. When the ghost was separated, he took on those feelings of rejection and guilt, at the same time the ghost ceased being a whole soul, and that was the final nail in the coffin so to speak. The ghost was now suddenly freed of much of the moral part of his soul, which still resided in his human half, and attacked.

Ten years later he had nearly destroyed both the mortal plane and the ghost zone. Clockwork was given the task of rectifying the situation, the remnants of the ancient council of ghosts “commanded” him and the Observants to prevent Dan from ever existing by killing Danny before he could become Dan.

While the Observants were perfectly comfortable with killing an innocent teen for something he might do in the future. Clockwork himself was not.

“I’m too soft”, the timekeeper chuckled to himself.

It was true, Clockwork had seen the life and death of all things since the beginning of time. He was born a ghost, a caretaker of the temporal aspects of the universe. It was his job, the reason he was made, he was the spirit of time itself, and guarding the infinite ages was his duty. And because of his long life, he had so far seen and would eventually see the death of all things that have and would ever exist. Because of that the, very idea of attempting to hasten the demise of even the smallest being – let alone one guilty of no crime – filled the Timekeeper with great unease and even disgust.

Instead Clockwork had manipulated time and space, causing Dan to attempt to cement his existence in the past and in the process giving Danny the chance to avoid that dark future. Dan was defeated, and his dark future was erased in the process, the malicious ghost was now the only reminder of what might have been.

“And that is the problem.” Clockwork mused aloud, stopping his pacing as he once more glanced at the canister, which seem to shake ever so slightly.

Dan was just too powerful, the thermos’s ability to keep him contained was failing, and Clockwork was actually surprised it had held him this long. As it was, Clockwork had a handful of weeks perhaps another few months if he was very lucky before the device would fail and the most destructive and malicious ghost he had ever encountered was freed to wreak whatever havoc he wished.

Not that Clockwork couldn’t handle him if Dan in fact attacked him, not that he thought that Dan was that stupid. Clockwork was, by echelons the most powerful ghost in existence. But unlike other ghosts he had to follow certain rules, there were limits as to when, where and how much he could interfere with the larger universe. Ultimately if Dan did not directly threaten him, then there was very little he could directly do to stop him, especially now that he was a separate existence from his younger self.

It was times like this, the ghost mused, that it became apparent how inconvenient being part of the higher order of the universe could be. The prohibition against unwarranted intercession existed for a good reason, but it greatly limited his options.

And this was the source of his dilemma, what was he to do with Dan?

Even if he somehow found a way to work around the restrictions, he couldn’t simply just destroy the young tyrant. The sudden disappearance of a massive power like the young super-ghost would leave behind a power vacuum in the universe. One which given time could be filled by an even more malevolent force. So, there was one option gone.

By the same token he couldn’t just let Dan go, he was far too dangerous to be allowed to be exist free and unchecked. That was never an option. Two down.

So, at this point he couldn’t destroy him, he couldn’t let him go and he was unable to contain him indefinitely.

That left him with few options. There was the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, but using that to seal Dan away would result in the release of Pariah Dark, the Ghost King. And that was an unacceptable consequence. In fact, in Clockwork’s mind it was a tossup as to who was worse Dan or Pariah, both had power that was nearly inconceivable in measure and both were about as evil as you could get - Pariah's affability and patience being his only redeeming factors, while Dan was simply a psychopath. Either way, it would be trading one disaster for another. Not really a solution when you think about it.

Clockwork resumed his movement, breaking his gaze upon the thermos. He sighed again, realizing with finality he had but one choice left. He floated up the stairs to the upper chamber of his tower where the records were kept.

He pulled out a file with the word Fenton stamped on it and then floated back down to the workshop lab.

From the folder he removed a rolled and folded paper and spread it out on a table. It was a schematic of some sort of device.

He would do the only thing he could. Since he couldn’t destroy or reseal Dan and he was too dangerous to allow to go free he would have to neutralize him, to render him such that he was unable or more accurately unwilling to cause any harm.

He would go with the backup plan that he hatched just in case Danny had been unable to defeat Dan a year ago. He really didn’t want to do this, Dan was an evil monster yes, but not even he deserved the agony that Clockwork was about to inflict on him. There was also that chance that Dan would be overwhelmed by the process and rendered catatonic or die as a result, something the Lord of Time didn't desire.

But Clockwork’s choice was made for him in that he simply had no other option, in the time of his musings the thermos had begun to drastically weaken, it would seem he significantly overestimated the time he had left, either that or Dan had begun to actively try to destroy the thermos from the inside, despite the potential risks to himself. He would prepare now, the procedure would take place tonight.

 

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**October 31 st 2008, unknown hour – The Ghost Zone. (Inside the Thermos)**

Dan Phantom was pissed, he was livid. Angry beyond belief - as he always was coming down from one of his more violent outbursts.

That little fucking brat, his weak pathetic half human self, somehow acquired his greatest power, his trump card, his wail, and a decade before he did. And the he used it to beat him and then shove him in this stupid fucking trap their parents made.

“Our parents?” he repeated aloud… his face would have showed shock, if he currently had a face.

As it was Dan was currently a disembodied mind attached to a mass of swirling energy. He had never like the feeling being inside one of these things gave him. He could never calculate the passage of time, he didn’t know whether he had be in here a few weeks or a few years. When he used to hunt ghosts as a kid he got sucked into one several times, enough that his friends would tease him about it, he never thought he would experience it again…

Friends… such a strange word, he didn’t have friends anymore. He didn’t need friends, or family for that matter.

Dan was a God, a ghost whose powers caused the worlds to tremble at his mere presence. It was just a sip of the tongue. Nothing more, he owed those pathetic mortals nothing save for necessity of the birth of his previous form. There was no attachment, no feelings.

He would kill them, if only to cause his younger self pain. To see the tears, the suffering in his eyes it would be better than any bliss the world could provide him.

“You hear me DANNY! I will escape, I will find you and I will KILL everyone you love and care about, and then when you’re laying broken, and worthless on the ground, wallowing in anguish only then will I end your pathetic existence!!!” The Dark ghost screamed out.

Suddenly Dan felt a sharp tug and a there was a brilliant flash of light. In his mind he smiled.

 

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**October 31 st, 2008, 10:47 PM – The Ghost Zone – Temporal Tower**

Clockwork had finish the construction of the machine, and he could delay no longer, the integrity of the thermos was failing precipitously, it would fail within the next few hours, it was now or never. He grabbed the thermos from his work bench and approached the device. It was a simple construct, two metal restraining tables alloyed with ectonium, each was encased in a dome of specialized glass that was specifically designed to repel all spectral phenomena. The outer dome was connected by several energy carrying cables, to the central one. It was fairly simple in theory but since it was based on an unfinished schematic designed by Jack and Maddie Fenton, Clockwork had to put in many of his own modifications and changes to the device to make sure it would work. Furthermore; the device was originally designed to work in the opposite manner for which Clockwork would be attempting to use it.

He then proceeded to plug the thermos into a port on the side of the right chamber and pressed the release button.

There was a flash of bright light, and green smoke.

A deep, melodious and malevolent laugh erupted from inside the dome sending a chill over the entire room. “… so, to what pleasure do I owe this audience Time Keeper?” That same deep and ominous voice rang out from the right chamber.

As the smoke cleared, the tall and brutish from of Dan Phantom was revealed, his skin was a sickly blue-green his hair was white flame. His red eyes gleamed with malice and his pearly fangs glinted in the light as he stretched his large and muscular body, working out the metaphorical kinks that had formed in his long imprisonment.

The floating spirit of time just gave a thin, pained smile at the large man.

“I assure you Daniel, the reason I have called you here is no pleasure, not for me and it will most certainly not be for you.” The Master of Time’s voice was strained and grim.

“Get this through your head old man, I’m not that brat, and I think you have this all wrong. This is going to be pleasurable, as pleasurable as massacring the brat’s family and turning the world into a living Hell. I’m going to rape and pillage and murder and kill until there’s no blood left to spill, the mortal world’s oceans will be red with the blood of all of humanity. You think that the first time I ruled the world was bad, that isn’t anything compared to what I’m going to do this time!”  Finishing his outburst, the super ghost smirked at the purple cloaked temporal ghost, his fangs gleaming.

Clockwork said nothing, he didn’t need to, Dan’s tirade was just that. He knew that very shortly Dan wouldn’t be doing anything of the sort.

“And do you want to know the best part?”, Dan face was smug his red eyes glowing brighter his voice raising in tone at his excitement.

“Because of that whole divine interference bullshit, you can’t do fuck to stop me.” Dan’s entire form exuded arrogance. His smile was the portrait of evil and his hair flared even more violently than usual, and his already muscular chest puffed up with diabolical pride.

Clockwork was unimpressed, for all his talk the boy wouldn’t be so confident if the Temporal Master could freely fight him. Not that it mattered.

The ghostly father time simply waved his hand and much to Dan’s surprise he slammed back into the vertically held restraint table.

Dan was livid, how dare this old man make a fool of him? But before he could manage a curse filled retort, the time ghost’s voice rang out.

“I’m afraid your time is up Daniel, I’ve had enough of these little games, the time for talking is over. Now all that is left is the time for actions.” Clockwork espoused. His voice was cold and flat, sepulchered, sounding distant, hollow and above all unchallengeable.

For the first time in years Dan felt something akin to unease. The Time Keeping ghost’s voice was always monotone and flat but it usually had a tinge of mirth or mischief in it. That was lacking now, replaced with ice and cold finality, as though his words were as inevitable as the eternal judgement of Time itself.

Before Dan could ponder the portentous change in demeanor, Clockwork snapped his fingers and in an instant large metal braces and cuffs erupted from the table Dan had his back against. They snaked around his wrists and lower arms, around his ankles and calves and a final one squeezed around his abdomen. The all locked in place with a loud click, binding him in place.

“I’m afraid Daniel that I won’t be the one stopping you much like you said. Instead you will be stopping yourself. I only hope that after this is all over, should you survive that is, that you can find it in yourself to forgive me for the anguish I’m about to put you through.” Clockwork said, his voice still cold, but it now held a saddened, regretful note. Even more disturbingly, though currently in his youthful adult form, the Temporal Spirit suddenly looked every one of his billions of years, as though he had suddenly been drenched in an ocean the weariness of untold eons.

“What the hell is this you bastard!? What are you planning!? What the fuck do you mean by survive? You shouldn’t be able do anything to me!” Dan was stuck tight; as he struggled, every muscle in his body strained as he tried to escape from the clamps that how held him down. His hair had gone into overdrive, the flames growing immensely, he gritted his teeth, his eyes glowing in fury. He struggled and thrashed about for some time before finally accepting that, at least for the moment he was trapped.

The blue skinned ghost looked towards Clockwork, and his eyes held so much hate that if looks could kill and Clockwork could die, the Master of Time would be nothing but ash.

“What the fuck is this? I thought you couldn’t screw around in the affairs of other beings, unless asked or ordered? And even then, I thought you had to interfere as little as possible.” Dan’s voice was boiling with anger and he was once again, like in recent months - and hours - losing composure.

He wasn’t yelling anymore because he felt that Clockwork would get some kick out of watching his captive squirm, Dan knew the he would in the same position. And did come to think of it; how many times did he have Valarie captured and tied and just watched while she screamed and writhed?

As it was Dan wasn’t in the frame of mind to think that another ghost might harbor differing feelings about watching a captive’s anguish.

The young tyrant was brought out of his musings, when Clockwork struck the butt of his staff against the ground. In response there was a loud whirling of machinery and the clanking of gears.

“It is now time.” the Clock master said, his form switching from an old man to that of a child.

“And, as you so kindly asked Daniel, I will answer your question.”

“This,” The Time Sage said, sweeping his arms apart as he shifted to his adult form, gesturing to the device that Dan was currently strapped to.

“Is my fail safe.”

“You see as I have also told Danny, I watch the world and time as one might watch a parade from above, seeing all the twists and turns it might or might not take.” As the cloaked ghost said this he floated higher in the air, while his arms spread wider and he shifted again back to an old man.

“When I sent back Skulker and Lunch Box to fight Danny, I knew it would cause you to confront your younger self out of the fear that you might cease to exist. You then would fight him in an attempt, to ensure the events that led to your birth occurred. All the while you never realized that you were doing my job for me. The very act of trying to preserve your present, Danny’s future caused the timeline to shift and history to change.” The purple cloaked spirit continued shifting once more into a child.

Dan was at this point speechless… his mouth hung open while the back of his mind seethed at the confirmation he **had** in fact been tricked. It was a conclusion that he thought of as a possibility in the endless time that he seemed to have while he was trapped. But to think it was possible was one thing, to know for a fact that your suspicions of being bamboozled were correct was quite another. The powerful ghost grit his teeth in anger, his fangs digging into mouth, drawing a flow of bitter green ectoplasm.

“However;” the young spirit intoned in a manner that seemed far too wizened for his child like appearance.

“I knew that there was a possibility; however small that Danny would fail and fall before you.”

“This,” the spirit gestured with a tipped hand shifting yet another time. “Was my contingency plan, the way in which I was to deal with you in the event Danny failed to vanquish you.”

Dan heard the sound of what looked to be a retracting door opening in the metal of the floor. He turned to watch and was stunned at what he saw. A third glass dome with a restraining table inside rose from the floor, but unlike the middle dome, the table in this enclosure was occupied.

Bound to the table was a young adult male, a human no less, he was pale, and his black hair spiked up in different places. He wore a black shirt and baggy black sweat pants. He was thin and looked slightly unwell, paler than he should, his skin sunken and sallow, enormous black blotches pooled beneath his closed eyes. On his chin was a small bit of black scruff. The young man appeared to be unconscious, his eyes remained closed despite the noise, and his breathing was slow and deep.

“The… BRAT, what the fuck is he doing here!?”

Clockwork could not help but a ghost of a smile at the young super-ghost’s mistake.

“How long was I imprisoned in that damn thermos Old Man! HOW LONG?” Dan yelled turning toward the timekeeper once more.

“A bit more than a year.”

“That’s impossible you geezer! Look at him!” The flame haired youth bellowed.

“No, no, you are mistaken Daniel, only 14 months have passed since your incarceration.” Dan’s face held disbelief.

“For you see child that is **not** the Danny you are so familiar with…” The Master of Time paused shifting again into his Adult form, pondering what to say.

“No, that’s not really true, in fact this Danny,” he said, gesturing to the young man on the slab “You are far more familiar with, **intimately** in fact.” Clockwork responded.

“What are you talking about Timekeeper?” By this point Dan had regained some of his composure. If only because he had temporarily forgotten that he was currently shackled to a table.

“He’s your human half.”

The silence following that statement was simply deafening, all that could be heard was the ticking of the clocks throughout the tower and the shifting of gears, as well as the near silent click of the pendulum that swung in Clockwork’s chest.

Dan was beyond stunned, this had to be some sort of joke, he killed his human half right after he absorbed Plasmius. He was **dead.**

“What did you say… my human half?” The dark ghost grinned, a monstrous grin.

“I **murdered** my human half you old fool, he’s beyond dead, there was nothing left not even a soul.” He chuckled viciously, his smile one fitting of the demon he was.

In but an instant, Dan suddenly felt the first inklings of an emotion he had long forgotten; terror.

It was though in an instant all warmth was sucked from existence, it was though in an instant that the entire world died, it was though in an instant that all things were silenced. Time stopped, everything froze; it was a sound, a sound, no thousands of sounds, the clamored ringing of untold frozen chimes, the dread dirge tolling of a clarion of requiem knells.

The Lord of Time was laughing, a mirthless laugh which froze the face of all creation before it, a thunderous pealing of three voices in one which shook the very foundations of reality, but a laugh none the less. Dan stared at the clock chested ghost, in horrified apprehension.

The Time Spirit cut off his laughter, turned to face his bound captive and began to speak, three voices echoing forth; youth, adulthood and old age, blending into one.

“What do you take me for **boy**? Do you think that I, Clockwork, the Lord Sovereign of Time, am incapable of saving a simple human teenager and making it appear as though he died? There was nothing left, foolish **child** because I took you human half and spirited him away, when the flames died down and there was nothing left, you in your arrogant rage simply **assumed** that you had utterly destroyed him, when in reality he was safe in my care.”

Dan couldn’t take any more surprises at this point. It was simply not possible that this pathetic excuse for a timepiece had outsmarted him twice. And in such a way that it made it look like Dan was nothing more than a puppet on a string.

But it didn’t matter. So clockhead had saved that useless bag of flesh, what could he do with it?

“Oh, I’m so terrified Timekeeper, you saved a wretched bag of meat!” He chuckled darkly.

Clockwork’s eyes narrowed, and he had to resist the urge to lash out with his tongue, managing to turn his bitten retort into a grimace; his laughing spell earlier might be considered an acceptable anomaly on its own, but now with his speech and barely canned outburst, it was becoming readily apparent that Dan possessed the unique ability to quickly erode the even Time Sage’s legendary, near inexhaustible patience. He took but a brief moment to gather his thoughts into something he wouldn’t regret, his tripartite voice ringing out through the room.

“‘This bag of meat’ as you so call it contains the other half of your soul, your morals and your human emotions, **that** _is_ something you **should fear** , **_boy_**.” Clockwork replied, before once again banging his staff against the ground.

Unfortunately for Dan there was one surprise left in the night and it made all others pale in comparison.

There was once again the whirling of gears and the sound of a door opening. Suddenly the entire room was bathed in an eerie green light.

Dan looked up towards the ceiling where a large round door was opening, the light was spilling out of it and as the door opened wider it soon became clear exactly what was casting the glow. For the first time in what he could remember, Dan Phantom was truly and utterly afraid. With one look at the device hanging above him, it suddenly became abundantly clear what the purpose of the machine he was currently strapped to was. As well as the answer to why Clockwork need his human half.

The device was a black ring as wide as the machine he and his human self were strapped to, inside it concentric circles of green energy were woven haphazardly with lines of the same that connected from the rim to the innermost circle. It was much larger than the one he remembered but there was no denying what it was. A Fenton Ghost Catcher.

There was a loud click as the mechanisms activated, the machine buzzing to life. With a small lurch, the Ghost Catcher began its slow descent from the ceiling.

“No… No, NO, NO, NO, **NOOOOOOO!!!!!** ” this wasn’t happening.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU CRAZY OLD FOOL!!!!?” Dan bellowed, his eyes shining like giant rubies, his hair had exploded into a super-heated torrent of flame, roaring against the glass of the dome.

“I am correcting a wrong, an event that was stopped from happening, was in a way still allowed to happen. As Master of Time I am fulfilling my duty to guard, protect and if need be, correct the flow of time. I am simply restoring the balance, fixing the last crack in a fractured timeline so to speak; and well if I so happen to render you unwilling to commit malicious acts in the process, then that is all the better for world.” The Ghost of Time stated before backing away from the device and turning his back.

I simply cannot bring myself to watch, Clockwork thought as the Catcher began to increase the pace of its descent.

 

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**October 31 st, 2008, 11:59 PM – The Ghost Zone – Outside Temporal Tower**

A horrific blood chilling scream of agony echoed out from the upper echelons of Temporal Tower, the home of the Time Master, Clockwork. The bellowing shook the surrounding landscape for miles, the vibrations continuing for a moment even after it stopped. But it was nothing compared to what was to come.

A flash of incandescent green light erupted from the building, brighter than a thousand suns. From several leagues away, ghosts stopped to stare in terrified awe as a boiling green sun of energy formed in the distance, growing larger by the moment. A physicist gazing upon this event would come to the conclusion that someone had just detonated an enormous nuclear weapon. But the energy being released here was far greater, than any bomb man had ever devised.

Without warning the ball of light which must have been miles across collapsed in on itself in a matter of seconds before it disappeared.

All seemed calm until there was an even more brilliant flash in the instant the sphere imploded out of existence, a ring-like shockwave of green energy tore away stealing the energy from the vanishing orb to fuel itself. It raced outward in all directions, an unfathomable torrent of ectoplasmic energy. This was a Psychic Tsunami, an ectoplasmic event on a cataclysmic scale; a spectral natural disaster. The whole of the Ghost Zone shook and trembled as the wave washed over it, catching and stripping some islands bare and sending others crashing into each other.

Many ghosts fled and hid in their individual pocket dimensions where they could or else attempted to find some manner of cover. Walker put his prison on lockdown, Technus shut and locked his door. Ember retreated with Skulker fearful that the blast even though on the other side of the Ghost Zone might blowout her hair.

The Box Ghost was not so lucky, he refused to leave his precious containers behind and was swept up in the shockwave, a half garbled “Beware” the last thing anyone heard. He would end up in the far north of the realm half frozen in ice by the time the pulse of energy weakened enough for him to escape it.

The shock traveled the full breadth of the dimension, and as it did so it came to two swirling vortices of energy. Going with the flow of energy part of it entered these twin portals.

 

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**October 31 st, 2008 11:59 PM – Amity Park – Fenton Works**

Danny Fenton was having a great night. He, Sam and Tucker were hosting a Halloween party at his home. He had his girlfriend Sam on one arm, a cola in the other and they were dancing the night away. There was a near endless supply of soft drinks, food and music. Tons of kids from his school had come; he wouldn’t say he was part of the in crowd now, but this might go a long way towards him not getting picked on. Thank God his parents were actually being cool for once and not causing him any grief. And his sister was at college, so she couldn’t nag him.

Furthermore, his parents had found out about his big secret a few months ago – thanks to Jazz and a bought of nauseatingly detailed nightmares –  and although they were at first angry that he kept it a secret and flabbergasted that their son was half ghost, it really wasn’t all that bad. They only drew some blood and ectoplasm to analyze, primarily to make sure that he was healthy and the fusion between his two states was stable. That their first and biggest concern would be his safety should have been obvious, he guessed that fear had a way of clouding people’s judgement. There was no being ripped apart molecule by molecule, no magazine covers or science monthly articles. His parents were actually cool with it once they had gotten used to it. The even let him keep hunting ghosts as long as he got all his homework done. Yes, as it were there was nothing that could ruin this night.

Suddenly a feminine robotic voice broke his thoughts and the mood of the party.

**_Alert, Alert, - Strong Ecto-psyonic disturbance detected in the Ghost Zone - Hazard Level 4 of 4 Closing Fenton Portal Blast door…. Warning, Warning, Power surge in containment field detected. Sensors indicate that the disturbance will not be safely contained by the system. Please Evacuate, Again, Please Evacuate. Blast Door Breach in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1..._ **

In the few seconds that Danny had to think as the emergency system broadcast its message, the conclusion he came to was that he was jinxed and somehow or another his thoughts of bliss triggered this turn of events.

He was completely unaware that it was in fact the agony of another that was to blame.

There was a great flash as the blast doors of the portal were breached and a torrent of ghostly energy burst forth into the basement and roared up the stairs. Danny muttered a sharp fuck as he and everything else in the building including the punch bowl, the kids and the furniture were thrown about.

Outside Fenton Works a green flash could be seen through the windows as a ring of energy erupted from the building and spread out like a shock wave. Across town a similar event occurred at the mayoral mansion. When the two waves met they writhed, bent and then merged before washing over the town and knocking out the power to all of Amity Park. The energy pulse then moved on and traveled through the countryside. Before long, it had knocked out power to the entire eastern half of the United States and parts of Canada before it finally dissipated.

 

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**November 1 st, 2008, 1:13 AM – The Ghost Zone – Temporal Tower**

The Psychic Tsunami was as powerful as Clockwork predicted it to be, perhaps even a tad more so. It was a good thing that both his tower and his belongings were shielded such that the energy of the blast was just reflected right off them. Otherwise the Ghost of Time would have been looking for a new place to live. As it was the tower was a mess, though nothing was destroyed his powers did not stop his papers and belongings from being scattered like driftwood in a hurricane.

Clockwork sighed. It would take quite a bit of his currently small pool of unrestricted power to reverse the tower’s time and place everything back where it belonged. Though the alternative of simply doing it the old-fashioned way was far more unappealing.

“Time Out!” Shouted the Time Spirit. A sphere of energy encompassed tower, there was no need to extend it any further and waste more energy.

“Rewind!” As these words left the ghost’s lips all the displaced objects in the tower suddenly began to fly through the air and back into the shelves, cupboards and bookcases. Notes and pens returned to desks, baubles and knickknacks flew into drawers and cabinets. Once everything was back in its place. The Master of Time gave his first genuine smile in many days before shouting “Time In!” restoring time within the tower to its normal flow.

Clockwork turned around; the sound of sizzling heat and steam hissed at him, stray bolts of ectoplasmic energy sparked and crackled like emerald lightning around the device, the thick cloud of greenish purple smoke had yet to clear out enough for him to see into the center chamber of the exorcism machine, the polarity of which he had reversed. Instead of separating a ghost from a human, he used it to combine the fragmented soul of a human and a ghost that ten years prior used to be one. Now all he could do is wait for the smoke to clear to see if it had been successful.

Within a few moments the first signs of the results made themselves clear, from deep in the smoke, gasping choking sounds emanated. Soon the gasps began to become more frequent and louder. By this point Clockwork was tired of waiting for the smoke to fade on its’ own so he summoned his powers and diffused it himself.

When he peered into the center chamber his eyes were greeted with the appearance of success.

A young human appearing man laid bound to the table. His deep indigo eyes were narrowed to points staring out at nothing, the dark circles underlining them made it look as though this man had not slept in months. His spiky black hair fell across his head and was long in the back. His mouth was opened gasping in a silent scream. But what both unnerved Clockwork and at the same time filled him with hope were the tears that were freely pouring from those eyes. The man began to shake, his whole body trembling almost as if he were convulsing. This worried the temporal ghost greatly, for an instant he worried that perhaps his dread would be realized, and the trauma was about to take it’s grisly toll. Though it wasn’t but a moment later that the man’s eyes rolled back, and his mouth closed, as he thankfully lost consciousness, going slack against the table and restraints. It had worked, the Master of Time thought, Dan Fenton had been restored.

“But at what price?” The timekeeper mused aloud.

Dan was now reunited with not only his human body but the other half of his soul, the half containing his sense of right and wrong as well as his more human emotions. This could have dire consequences. Dan’s current condition was not in fact a direct result of the merger, which should have had only minor physical complications at worse. No, his current ails were not of the body, but of the mind, of his conscience and morals, his humanity now coming in contact with all the evil and malevolent deeds he committed.

At his core, in his true and un-warped form, Dan shared the same unbreakable moral conviction and sense of justice that his younger counterpart did. With that now allowed full scrutiny of his actions, Dan was literally being hammed by a tidal wave of remorse; drowning under a vast ocean of guilt, fear and self-loathing.

Clockwork knew that there was not an insignificant chance that Dan’s mind would fail under the strain and collapse in on itself, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell. Clockwork could only hope that Dan could gather the strength he needed to get through this, because at this point the Time Spirit would freely admit with some sadness that there was no one in the world currently besides himself that would be at all sad to see Dan die. He had no friends or family to help him through this, and Clockwork could only do so much.

Looking over the unconscious man Clockwork made his assessment. His goatee had become more pronounced as had his jawline. His eyes now closed had deep black circles under them much like his ghost form did. Across his torso and chest lay the shredded remains of the black shirt, having been destroyed when the human body took on the musculature of his ghost form.

He was expecting this to happen, though it was still intriguing really, Dan was an anomaly; his impressive and anatomically correct build was likely the result of his strength as a ghost combined with the “memory” of his human origins present within his unique spectral body. In the purest sense your basic ghost is just a mass of energy with some form of consciousness attached to it; and despite common conception of a ghost as a “living will”, ghosts are not monolithic, but instead dualistic, the energy and consciousness are not the same and are not interchangeable. Thus, the form a spirit takes is based both on the physical power of the ghost – the mass/energy available to it – and on the strength of its will/identity, it’s sense of self. A ghost with too little power cannot create a large coherent form even if it’s strong willed and potent consciousness dictates it, Skulker being an example – for which he compensates with his technological prowess and battle suit, making him a dangerous exception to the usual hierarchy. On the other hand, ghost with large amounts of power but weak or near absent wills – as is seen with many sub sentient animal ghosts – take disjointed, often monstrous forms. Dan is different, due to his human origins, he has a fully constructed spectral body in addition to his power and mind. This makes his “physical” form more powerful and durable than that of an equivalent ghost – of which there is only one, Pariah – but it also makes him more ridged and less adaptable, he cannot consciously alter his body in any major capacity or deviate from his set form. Any changes could only occur subconsciously and only following his preset physiological blueprint. In other words, his large physique was the result of his mind acting subconsciously on his immense power and attempting to force his pre-existing spectral body into a shape that his mind subconsciously associated with power and strength; the spectral form changed and adapted into an facsimile of this subconscious desire in close approximation to the human body upon which it was based. To put it succinctly, fangs, flaming hair, forked tongue, and pointed ears aside – all of which were relics from eating Plasmius – Dan could only ever have an appearance his original human body was genetically and physically capable of. Which is why the human body was able to and did alter its form to accommodate the ghost, the ghost’s form was built after a physique that this body could assume…

“…destroying the shirt in the process.” The Temporal Spirit noted with a sigh as he checked Dan’s pulse.

Clockwork was thankful that the sweatpants had held, even if they appeared to be a little tight on Dan’s now much larger human body. He would rather not deal with a naked Dan if he could at all help it.  He didn’t have the time to go searching for clothes for the man. As another point besides that, had the pants torn, where in the ghost zone was he going to find another pair of human pants? Especially ones that would fit someone who looked like they lived half of their life at a gym? Add to that yet that many ghosts – such as himself – didn’t have any legs - their tails being permanent anatomical features - and those that did have legs and pants were unlikely to share…

And pants or not he’s going to have to get Dan some clothes eventually…

Which would realistically leave only one option…

No…

The Lord Sovereign of Time was not going to simply go shopping at a Mall.

That and as Clockwork began snickering at his rather silly mental rant – likely a product of the stress of the last day –  he was a ghost and had no money.

Plus, he couldn’t leave Dan in his rather vulnerable state. There was no telling when the man would wake up and he would be defenseless until then. Furthermore Clockwork fully expected him to be a complete mental basket case when he awoke, he would need someone to keep him calm so he didn’t completely fall apart.

Clockwork snapped his fingers, and in response the cuffs holding the now human Dan retracted, the central chamber opening. Raising his hands, Clockwork levitated the unconscious body into the air and removed if from the chamber. Dan now floated in front of Clockwork, still completely out of it.

The Master of Time slowly floated towards the stairs that would lead down into the lower floors of the tower. The man’s body floating a few feet in front of him. He descended the three flights of stairs, they now entered the lower levels where the guest rooms were located – they were clean but rarely used, it was only once every few centuries that Time Sage had mortal visitors. Opening the door to the largest, Clockwork deposited the unconscious man on the bed he had already prepared, smiling a slightly as the man’s chest rose and fell. He covered Dan with a blanket and then quietly left the room. At this point all there was left to do was wait, and hope that he would wake up.

Clockwork returned to his workshop, he still had much to do, clocks to fix, humans to watch and the Observants would have certainly traced the energy blast to his tower by this point. Knowing the insufferable bureaucrats, he would have to have some explanation, there would be paperwork to fill out. He grimaced, there always was paperwork, the Observants seemed require paperwork simply for the sake of paperwork.

“Now that is **true** evil.” The Timekeeper chuckled to himself, free at last from the weeks of previous stress he now felt better than he had in many years.

 

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Due to AO3 Graphical limitations, See Notes on this Scene at the end the work for an explanation

**X- XX- XXXX, X: XX XM – UNKNOWN**

~~He~~ was floating in liquid darkness, it was cold and silent, or it was at least for now. The voices will come again, ~~he~~ was sure of it. They always came.

“Where’s our boy you monster?” a woman yelled out.

O boy, ~~he~~ was right, they came back. But of course, ~~he~~ was right, they always came back.

“But I am your boy…” This was new, the voices were talking to each other, this voice was new it sounded like a child, a Little Boy.

“I AM your boy!”  This voice was a Dark baritone, there was something wrong with it, though it was saying nearly the same thing as the Little Boy, it was all wrong. It was dark, evil, mocking, ~~he~~ didn’t like it.

“Monster!” This voice was another man, but it was familiar, ~~he~~ heard it before, many times in fact.

“Because that’s not Danny!” Another voice ~~he~~ had heard before joined in. This one was a Young Woman.

“But… But I am Danny… sniff...ugh.” The Little Boy was back, _he_ was crying.

“Seriously what kind of parents are you?” The Dark voice, **he** was back.

“There are no such things as good ghosts.” The Older Man was back.

“The only good ghost is an exterminated one, prepare to die you disgusting ball of ectoplasm and post human conscious!” It was the Older Woman this time.

Suddenly a flash of light lit the darkness. ~~He~~ could see. There were the characters. It was like watching everything, floating in front of ~~him~~.

The Man and the Woman and the Teen Girl. They were walking away. The Little Boy, with black hair and crystal blue eyes was trying to run after them. But … _He_ couldn’t make it to them, they were walking faster than _his_ little legs could carry _him_ even when running.

Then suddenly, the family, as ~~he~~ decided they most likely were stopped. The Little Boy had almost caught up. Then the man turned his head and looked back with a dark glare on his face. The woman turned as well, a glare upon her face, followed by the daughter.

“That’s not Danny!” The daughter screeched as she pointed towards the Little Boy.

“But… But I am Danny… sniff...ugh.” The Boy replied on the verge of tears.

“Where’s our boy you monster?” The woman now spoke.

How could she call a little child a monster ~~he~~ wondered?

“But I am your boy… sniff” The boy was crying, tears falling from _his_ face.

‘Why? What did the kid do? Why are you denying _he’s_ your son?’ ~~He~~ screamed.

“Monster!” It was the man this time. “Monster! that’s what you are!”

“Our son is not a Monster!” The man yelled. The child by this point had collapsed to the ground _his_ face red from tears, buried in _his_ tiny hands.

“Mom, Dad, Jazz!” A new voice calls out it is familiar, it sounds a bit like the Little Boy.

Hey look… there’s a new person here… He* looks exactly like the boy! But he’s older a teenager…

“Danny!” all three in the family respond, leaving the Little boy to _his_ misery.

‘Why, why are you denying the Boy? What did _he_ do to you? Why won’t you love _him_ too?’ ~~He~~ wonders.

Suddenly as ~~he~~ watched, the Little Boy stood up, drying _his_ eyes. The boy’s hair changed from pitch black to pure white. _His_ crystal eyes shifted from blue to electric green. _His_ clothes shifted from shorts and a white shirt to a black jumpsuit with a white D on the front.

Then before ~~his~~ eyes, the boy began to grow, taller and lankier. The boy was now an inverted copy of the Black-Haired teen. The one the family called Danny. The White-Haired Teen looked at the other boy surrounded by the family.

The White-Haired Teen called out “Why? Why won’t you love _me_? Why don’t you love _me_ like you love  him? Why can’t you love _us both_ _†_?”

“Why only him?” The White-Haired Teen screamed.

“Seriously what kind of parents are you?” ~~He~~ was scared, it was the Dark Man’s voice, but it came from the white-haired boy.

 ~~He~~ watched as suddenly the white-haired teen underwent a horrific transformation. The boy began to grow taller, **_his_** arms and legs longer, **_his_ ** body suddenly bulged, **_his_** muscles began expanding and growing, filling **_his_** body out. **_His_** white hair burst into flame changing to white fire. **_His_** skin became a sickly shade of blue, the white-haired teen’s, now the Dark Man’s ears became pointed, **_his_** smile was… fanged. And **_his_** eyes, God, **_his_** eyes they were blood red.

The former white-haired teen, now the Dark Man walked toward the family. ~~His~~ feelings were mixed, the family had treated the boy cruelly, but ~~he~~ knew in his heart that the Dark Man was going to do something terrible.

 ~~He~~ made his decision, ~~he~~ screamed out to the family, yelling saying anything to get them to run. But they didn’t hear him.

The Dark Man held out **_his_** hand; some sort of terrible dark energy burned in it.

 ~~He~~ screamed his warning to the family. But it was too late. The Dark Man swung **_his_** hand and the family was rent asunder.

It was horrible. ~~He~~ felt sick, nauseated, the woman, the mother, her head went flying. The daughter, she was cut in half her skeleton peeling back away from her flesh. The man was the worst his body just …exploded, blood and gore, viscera and bone, muscle and skin… brain. It spattered everywhere.

The Black-Haired Teen, though, the one they called Danny he was unharmed, though he was covered in the gore of his family’s blood and organs. His eyes were wide as possible, he was trembling, in terror or shock perhaps both.

The Dark Man suddenly appeared as if by magic in front of the Black-Haired Teen called Danny. **_He_** reached out a hand closing it around the boy’s neck, lifting  him into the air choking him. ~~He~~ screamed, and so did the boy.

 ~~He~~ screamed for the man to stop. ~~He~~ already had taken the boy named Danny’s family, what more was there?

But ~~his~~ pleas fell silent. Why couldn’t anyone hear ~~him~~? It was like ~~he~~ wasn’t even there or here or wherever ~~he~~ was. Come to think of it who was ~~he~~? Why didn’t that question come to mind before? Who was he…?

The Dark Man tightened ~~his~~ hand around the Danny’s neck… but ~~He~~ didn’t notice… who was ~~he~~ …?

Suddenly to his horror, it wasn’t the Dark Man’s hand that was on Danny’s throat, it was **_~~his~~_** hand. **_~~His~~_** hand that was squeezing the life out of the boy called Danny. It was **_~~his~~_** forked tongue that was licking the blood from **_~~his~~ _** lips. It was **_~~his~~_** pointed ears that heard Danny’s screams of fear and anguish. **_~~His~~_** huge muscles that were wringing the breath from Danny’s body, holding  him in the air. It was **_~~his~~ _** blood red eyes that was watching it all.

 _ ~~He~~_ was the Little Black-haired Boy!

 ~~He~~ was the White-haired Teen!

 ** ~~He~~ ** was the Dark Man… ~~He~~ was the Dark Man.

No… This can’t be **_~~he~~_** screamed in **_~~his~~ _** mind.

“What can’t be…? You mean, **_~~you~~ _** can’t be **_~~me~~_**?” The Dark Man’s voice spoke aloud, **_~~he~~_** felt **_~~his~~_** lips, the Dark man’s lips move all on their own.

“ ** _ ~~You~~_** are **_~~me~~_** , **_~~I~~_** am **_~~you~~_**! **_~~We~~ _** are destruction, **_~~we~~_** are death, **_~~we~~_** are the monster the whole world fears!”

 

  Instantly, before **_~~his~~_** eyes a train of tens of thousands, maybe millions of images flash before **_~~him~~_**. Scenes of death, of rape, of murder. **_~~He~~_** watched the progression of a decade in the span of seconds. **_~~He~~_** watched as **_~~he~~_** murdered tens of thousands, no hundreds of millions of people. Men defending their families, women begging for the lives of their children. **_~~He~~_** slew them all, man, woman and child!

The vision ended, **_~~he~~_** could see **_~~his~~_** hands had tightened further around Danny’s neck.

Then **_~~his~~_** hands began to move, once again all on their own. One hand moved to cup the back of Danny’s head, the other came under his chin.

 ** _ ~~He~~_** shivered in realization, **_~~he~~_** knew what placing **_~~his~~_** hands in those places meant. **_~~He~~_** cried out, begging for it not to happen.

Suddenly, **_~~he~~_** can’t breathe, there’s something around **_~~his~~_** neck, **_~~he~~_** can’t see, **_~~he’s~~_** in too much pain, **_~~he~~ _** stinks of iron, **_~~he~~ _** can’t see through **_~~his~~_** tear stained eyes, squinted in pain, ** _~~he~~ _** blinks, it’s a blur hands, **_~~he’s~~_** being strangled…

 ** _ ~~He~~ _** blinks again, **_~~he’s~~ _** looking up into the Dark Man’s face, **_~~his~~ _** own face…

And now **_~~he~~_** ** _ ~~‡~~_** realizes it… ** _ ~~he’s~~_** Black-Haired Teen, **_~~he’s~~_** Danny too…

 ** _ ~~His~~_** hands shifted abruptly, each wrist twisting a hand in a different direction around **_~~his~~_** own neck.

“SNAP!”

 ** _ ~~He~~_** had broken Danny’s neck… ** _ ~~His~~_** own neck… **_~~he~~_** screamed out as ** _~~his~~ _** last breath faded…as the light in the Danny’s eyes died…. As the light in **_~~his~~_** own eyes died…

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!”

 

**December 21 st 2008, 4:44 AM – The Ghost Zone – Temporal Tower**

**“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”**

He wrenched himself up in

… a bed. Screaming his head off…

He grasped the sheets in strangled fear. His knuckles white, his chest, which he noted was both bare and oddly well-muscled for him being only fourteen, was heaving up and down, he was nearly hyperventilating. He had to calm down. He wasn’t breathing right, the oxygen wouldn’t get his brain. He placed his right hand on his chest over his heart trying to force his chest to rise and fall more naturally. His left hand propped him up.

After a few minutes he finally had calmed enough to get his bearings… Where was he? The last thing he remembered was being with Vlad…

No that wasn’t right…

At least it wasn’t completely right. He propped himself up against the headboard, staring down at his hands.

Being with Vlad was the last thing his human half had remembered. His … other half, remembered being captured by his younger self, then Clockwork releasing him. Before placing him in that machine… the machine!

“Oh God…” he whispered, clenching his eyes in …fear? Anguish?

He remembered the terror he felt as the Fenton Catcher descended. The flash of light and the burst of white hot agony when it connected with the top of his head and the all-consuming flames of pain that washed out everything when it reached his neck, everything every nerve alight…Then nothing, then the cold. Then he felt like he was drowning. He felt cold, so very, indescribably cold. Then his mind began to fall apart as the past ten years flashed in front of his eyes, confronted with all the sick, twisted things that he had done, he couldn’t take it, he fell into oblivion.

Then there was that nightmare.

No… the real Nightmare was right in front of him…it was him…

“I wonder what Jazz would have to say about that fucked up mess.”

He surprised himself when he spoke. His voice wasn’t the voice he remembered as a young man nor was it quite the toxic baritone that his evil ghost-half had. It was deep and rich with only a hint of the darkness that was inside him. He had no doubts that if he felt like it he could speak in the same malevolent tone that he had spoken with for the past decade.

He now knew who he was. He was Dan Phantom, the most evil ghost to ever live. Or was it now Dan Fenton? He wondered. He had his human half back now. His morals, and emotions were back, the tears that were constantly flowing from his face were evidence of that. So was the nightmare he suspected.

“What a fucking nightmare…” he muttered

No… the real Nightmare was right in front of him…it was him…

He felt the pain and misery of the millions of lives he snuffed out...

But he couldn’t…

Not really;                

He knew that, knew what he felt was just a prick, just a sting, he could suffer in agony till the end of time, and never feel enough…

He felt the guilt, the horrible overwhelming guilt of what he had done, it was crushing his heart like a vice.

But he couldn’t…

Not really;

He knew that, knew what he felt was just a squeeze, just a small tightness, he could throw his heart into a black hole, have it crushed into infinity, and never feel enough…

It was all he could do not to breakdown and sob. To weep for all that he had destroyed. He would take his own life a trillion times, suffer and infinite number of deaths if it would bring them back, if it would only make the guilt the pain go away.

But he couldn’t…

And even if he did, if he suffered and bled and bled, a twisted endless sacrifice, and brought them all back, he still would be unforgivable, unworthy of having his suffering reduced, let alone his pain ended, even by the oblivion.

The door opened, and in floated Clockwork, a bag in his hand. The Ghost of Time had a worried look on his face but it quickly switched to surprise and perhaps even a twinge of happiness, upon seeing his charge sitting up in bed.

“Danny, you’re awake... How do feel?” the Time Keeper asked.

He took a deep breath before answering, in through the nose out through the mouth, trying to get rid of the sting from what the Time Keeper had called him.

“I feel horrible, I feel like shit, like the lowest piece of fucking shit in either world.” He bit out with a groan, arm in front of his eyes.

Slinging his arm to the side with a sigh, he looked over briefly at the Temporal Ghost, before continuing.

“…And Clockwork?” The temporal ghost turned to look at the man in the bed.

“Don’t ever call me that ever again…” the man’s voice trailed off, it was spoken so softly that even the deep voice he possessed seemed weak; the inflections of Darkness he placed in his words were hardly noticeable.

Clockwork looked toward the man, suddenly worried that perhaps the evil had not been eradicated from his being… but before he could speak and attempt confirm or refute his idea. The man on the bed held up his hand to still him.

“I don’t deserve it, that name, after what I’ve done I not and will never again be worthy of being called by that name, please just call me Dan.” The black haired man said. There was someone who deserved that name far more than him. A real Danny, one who was truly a hero, one who had the conviction not to cheat on that test and end up turning into a monster. The one thing that brought his life to a crashing end. He was tainted, he failed the other Danny succeeded and was better, more pure. There was no reason to dirty that name.

“Clockwork… Can you give me just a few minutes? I promise I’m not going to do anything stupid or something, I just need to collect my thoughts…”

Clockwork felt for the young man. Even knowing his younger form, he was stronger stuff than Spirit of Time had first thought; to survive and accept the guilt of what he has done, his spirit really is that of a hero. The old sage smiled as he shifted to his aged form.

“Sure… Dan, I’ll give you all the time you need. But first here.” The Lord of Time held out the bag to Dan who had since gotten up and out of the bed.

The Halfa looked at the bag and then at the Spirit of Time, raising an eyebrow.

“Clothes” he said confused “You went shopping?” he almost snorted

Dan was surprised, it didn’t seem like something Clockwork would do.

“No, I didn’t, I bribed Ember, I promised that I would overlook her… transgressions, and not report to either Walker or The Observant Council, that she has been frequently slipping into the mortal realm and spending the money she made as a rock star on contraband items, with the caveat that she would pick some things for you on her next trip.” The temporal ghost gave a slight smirk, shifting into his child form.

“That’s pretty devious coming from someone who’s supposedly on the side of good.” Dan suggested.

“Not at all, being manipulative and changing the situation to my benefit has always been one of my primary tools.” Clockwork gave a small smile, then left the room.

Dan stood and picked up the bag… “Ember hun…” he blew out a breath

“ _Great…_ I’ll probably end up looking like some punk… not that it matters, what I am is far worse than a punk that causes trouble at a mall…”

Dan looked at himself in the mirror that hung on the wall, it was an ornate piece, likely centuries old which would fit considering it’s in Clockwork’s Tower.

He looked his body over and he had to admit he looked pretty good. He was both surprised and a bit happy – though he shouldn’t be considering – to see that the muscles from his ghost form had transferred to his human one. He had an eight-pack and his chest was broad. His arms were huge, his whole 6’1” frame was big in general. He would never have guessed he would look like this ten years ago.

He could kick the shit out of Dash as a human now if he wanted, a smirk crossed his face. Only for it to fall flat as he saw the way it distorted his visage...

He quickly turned away from the mirror, trying to occupy his eyes and mind with anything other than his reflection, something that wouldn’t trigger memories but all staring at the four-poster bed did was remind him of that fist fateful trip to Wisconsin and Vlad’s Mansion…

“Damn it!”

He was thinking like he was still fourteen, the dissociation between his two sets of memories was still pretty bad, it would probably be a while before they formed into a single continuous stream. But he couldn’t let that be an excuse; the fourteen-year-old him may not have had a problem with slugging Dash if he could get away with it…

Well he bitterly thought… as he felt the bile rise quickly in his throat, the fourteen-year-old him also hadn’t murdered Dash. It was a year after his …transformation…Dash was his first victim in Amity, he stuck his hand through the poor boy’s chest, the dazed and horrified look on the Jock’s face had been particularly satisfying back then…

Now he just wants to either scream or cry or throw up…

Afterward he crushed the body and stuffed it in Paulina’s locker for her to find later that day. The screams were particularly loud and agonized…

He remembered enjoying it immensely; then he kicked off his return to Amity, by kicking off most of the heads of the football team

He remembered, afterwards…kicking field goals…

Now he really **was** going to throw up…

He was a monster…What would his family, what would Tucker, or God! What would Sam….

“Fuck…Fuck…Fuck…” He groaned, whirling around to face the mirror again, barely able to look at his disheveled and tear stained reflection in the mirror without shattering it with a fist.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, and began to repeat, to growl under his breath…

“They’re **gone** …You’re **not** _Him_ … **Not** any more … The ones that exist _here_ are **not** them… And they’re _His_ **not** yours… Your name **is** Dan, you’re a **monster** given a conscience in order to **pay** for what you’ve **done** …

He needed to get through his head that he wasn’t Danny anymore, there was another Danny a better Danny one who wouldn’t misuse his powers.

Stretching his arms and chest, he looked back at the mirror and reminded himself that this body really wasn’t anything to be proud of, his physique had been built on his incomplete self’s psychotic ego and deaths billions of innocents. His powers, many of them awful and horrifying were honed on the bones of his victims, his body had been watered with their blood. He was an abomination, an inverted human sacrifice. He couldn’t give: this body, this power, his perversion of a being back so he would keep it and use it for something decent and be ever mindful of where this body, where this power came from. And the eternal and indelible debt he owes because of it.

He looked up at his face, his chin was wider then it had ever been as a teen and a black goatee covered most of the center of it, his eyes were a deep purple blue. Indigo he believed the color was called, a vast distance from the sky-blue eyes he once had. Then there were the dark circles under his eyes, it almost looked like had eye black on. It was another trait that had apparently transferred from his ghost form, that and his long hair… and apparently his ears as well. They were slightly pointed, not really too noticeable but it was there, as were his fangs. They were greatly reduced but his canines were far sharper and more pointed than they had any right to be. The front of his hair was nearly identical to what he had when he was younger, but the back spilled down his shoulders for about six to seven inches.

Dan finally decided to see what Ember had bought and see if any of it was wearable. The first thing he came across was a short sleeved muscle shirt with a white circle in the center, it reminded him of his favorite t-shirts. He tried it on, it was fairly tight and conformed to his upper body showing every muscle he had. Personally, he thought the look was a bit too eye catching, with the recent reminders of exactly how he ended up so ripped, he was becoming less and less happy about showing it off. But the shirt’s design reminded him of one of his few good memories, his old life before things went to hell, he like the design so it was something he would keep. Next were a pair of black jeans that fit fairly well and looked good with the black belt that the girl picked out, the silver buckle standing out against the pants.

“Jesus! Is there anything in here that isn’t black?” Dan said dumping the bag out.

Much to his chagrin his fears were confirmed. All black, including the damn socks.

A few minutes later he had finished getting dressed. He wore the pants and shirt with a waist length black leather jacket over it. His hair was tied with a simple rubber band in a small ponytail. His feet were in a pair of black combat boots, the kind that his parents would wear on their wilderness ghost hunts.

His parents… Dan couldn’t help it, the tears began to pour down his face. He had, killed his parents and then tried to kill them again, as well as Jazz his sister who always stood by him. She even knew his secret and kept it, she never told their parents. And he rewarded her by not only getting her kill but then by going back in time and trying to kill her all over again. And Sam and Tucker too. He got them killed and then tried to kill them. These were people who he was supposed to love and yet he turned on them like a rabid dog.

How could they… could the ever… forgive… me?  He thought.

It was at that point that Dan broke down and proceeded to sob, something that he continued for several hours…

 

DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP-DP

 

**December 21 st, 2008, 1:13 PM – The Ghost Zone – Temporal Tower.**

Clockwork was working on winding and cleaning several of his clocks in his workshop. Books of Ghost Zone history and schematics for all sorts of time pieces along with various tools littered the tables around the room.

The temporal ghost paused from his work and turned when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Soon after Dan poked his head in to the workshop. Looking around curiously before entering. He walked up to Clockwork.

The Time Keeper looked him over noticing his deep purple-blue eyes were rimmed in red, he had been crying again, Clockwork concluded.

“How… How will I do it?” Dan asked, more to the universe at large than to Clockwork himself, never the less the ghost asked the halfa to clarify.

“Do what?” the purple robed spirit queried.

“Make up for all the things I’ve done.” Dan almost whispered, his deep voice barely carrying.

“You will have to take it one day at a time Dan, the first thing you need to do is forgive yourself.”

“You needn’t worry, you will have all the time you need.” The Time Ruler spoke trying to comfort the reformed super ghost.

Then I have a big problem, Dan thought. He could have all of eternity and still never atone for what he had done. And furthermore, he could never, never forgive himself.

But he had to try. He wouldn’t give up… Perhaps someday. Those who once considered him family, those who once loved him would do so again.

A single tear fell from an indigo blue eye and splashed upon the floor.

END

 

**June 14 th, 2018**

**Notes on the Nightmare Scene:**

As originally intended, the jumbled nightmare scene is an attempt to give a glimpse into Dan/Future Danny’s fractured psyche, his return to consciousness and the revelation and acceptance of the horror he is responsible for. The scene tries to refer to it’s cast in as singular and simple terms as possible e.g. Jazz is the “Young Woman”, Danny Fenton is “The Black-Haired Teen” etc. In addition, each of the portions of Dan/Danny’s self is alluded to by altering the formatting of the pronoun that refers to them, this is done from both an artist/literary perspective, as well as a practical one, to indicate which of the many [He]’s on screen is being alluded to. Unfortunately, due to the limitations of AO3’s formatting structure some of alterations are combined resulting in a muddling of the original set up. Below is a example “key” for the scene:

The narrator of the scene is Dan Fenton, the new restored “whole” empathetic version of Dark Danny/Dan Phantom, he also represents the human “half” of Dan that Clockwork saved. He is the one having the nightmare, but despite being the center of the scene he is ultimately powerless, he cannot change or interact with the scene at all, his attempts at speech are given by single quotes ‘’ and go completely unheard by those he tries to interact with, he is impotent, just like he was in real life as his powerless human self against his evil ghost half, just like how he is now unable to do anything to change all the horrible things he did, even now that he is once again whole. This powerlessness is represented by a slash through pronouns referring to him [ ~~He~~ ]

The second Danny, that we encounter in the scene, is Young, Human Danny Phantom, the representation of the 14 years of human memories and life of the half of the 14-year-old Danny Fenton that became Danny Phantom in the accident. He is the true core of and the most the earnest appellation/argument against rejection by the Phantom half/Aspect, as well as the part of Phantom most hurt by that rejection. He is mostly referred to as the Little Boy and his pronoun format is simple italics [ _He_ ]

**As Dan begins to encounter and equate the various Danny(s) with each other and himself their formattings merge to signal both the acceptance of equivalence and unity between the otherwise disparate aspects.**

*The third Danny we encounter is the Black-Haired, Danny Fenton, the representation of Dan Fenton’s past self when he identifies as the human half. This Danny has little to no speaking role and is along with Dan Fenton, the victim of violence in the nightmare, and the target for most of the hate from his other selves, it was ultimately first, his fear of rejection by his parents – that he past on to Phantom, being one and the same – and then his dissociative blaming of himself and his ghost half Phantom for the deaths of his friends and family that jump-started this whole debacle. He is mostly referred to as either Danny or the Black-Haired-Teen, his pronoun format is a double underline [He] which AO3 unfortunately does not correctly display, depicting it as a single underline.

The fourth Danny we meet is the White-Haired Danny Phantom, he is mostly called the White-Haired-Teen and his pronoun formatting is a single underline [He], which due to AO3’s limitations might lead to confusion. Thankfully he represents the side of the 14-year-old teen that became the ghost and thus in the scene comes into existence as an evolution of Young-Danny Phantom. Because of this, with one exception their formatting is always combined on screen as [ _He_ ] single underline + italics. (†) In the instance that Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom are mentioned together – or in post ego merger – they are identified as a thick single underline combined with italics [ _Us_ ] which again AO3 can unfortunately not display. Danny Phantom is the aspect of the 14-year-old teen that took the hit for the teens immense fears and eventually self-loathing and blame for the death of his friends and family, which led to a dissociate split and…

The Fifth and final Danny is of course; the Dark Voice/Man, Dan Phantom, the Ultimate Enemy, the evil isolated ghost half of Fenton/Phantom and both the antagonistic evil counterpart to the human half Dan Fenton and the dark past and powers of the merged restored Dan Fenton/Phantom. He is the antagonist of the nightmare, the embodiment of the horrible memories and experiences of his deeds, and their effect of coming to bare on his newly re-merged self’s conscience. He is usually called the Dark Voice/Man and he is represented on his own by plain bold formatting of his pronouns [ **He** ]. In scene though he evolves from Danny Phantom, who himself evolved from Young Danny Phantom, as such his formatting is almost always merged with theirs, rendering it as bolded + italic + single underline [ ** _He_** ]. He soon after that merges with/reveals to Dan Fenton that they are one in the same… adding a slash to the format. [ ** _ ~~He~~_** ] After this Dan F. has the unfortunate experience of feeling himself involuntarily attack Danny Fenton, again represented double underline, Single for AO3 [He]. Only for things to further escalate in the last moments as he finds out he’s Danny Fenton as well - ‡format bolded, + italic + single thick underline + slash [ ** _ ~~He~~_** ] not correctly displayed on AO3 -  right as the climatic and traumatic ending takes place, representing the final acceptance of  the grief, anguish and blame as expressed in an instant of horrific and unrecoverable finality.

 

**Author's Note:**

> March 27th, 2014
> 
> Well I did you guys I finished what was supposed to be a little 2000 word one-shot, and it turned into a 10,400-word behemoth. This had been bouncing in my head for a while and I just had to get it down. I’ll get back to Silver Skies in a Day or Two, because frankly I’m beat like a Drum, This was written over about 14 straight hours so I’m really tired.
> 
> Okay I know that this is just a one-shot but I am a reasonable person. If a bunch of you guys want me to, I will turn this into a syndicated story if I get enough people asking me to. Otherwise Mea Culpa ends here. What happens to Dan and whether or not he is reunited/ re-accepted into the Fenton family will be up to your imagination.
> 
> Secondly I want to give you all a bit of insight into my general thought process.
> 
> Turning a Hero into a villain is very enjoyable, the shock moment when his friends and family realize their bastion of goodness has fallen to darkness. It provides so much delicious pain and suffering. Muhaha!!! (On another note I’m considering that I may possibly be some sort of energy vampire, a dark and capricious god to my characters, feeding off their succulent misery.) However; as enjoyable as it may be the entire situation has to eventually reverse. The fallen hero has to have a moment of clarity, when he realizes to his horror what he has done, it strikes with a vengeance tearing through the mind and creating another moment of lovely despair and misery, the hero returns in a pain filled journey to the light. But he is forever changed marked by his experience perhaps for the better perhaps for the worse, only time will tell.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed the story. This is Johannes – The Egg Emperor, signing off.


End file.
